


The Field

by WritingsOfAHobbit



Series: Thranduil/Reader Stories [8]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, mentions of little!Legolas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3436517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingsOfAHobbit/pseuds/WritingsOfAHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: Can you write a one shot of making out with Thranduil? ^_^ I love your blog!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Field

**Author's Note:**

> Quel amrun – Good Morning
> 
> Diola lle – Thank You
> 
> Calwa heri – Beautiful Lady

It is rare that you get to be in the King’s company, rarer still that it is only you and him. The world is changing around you and it’s not changing for the best. There are political and strategic things that the King must deal with, and his personal life will always come second or third.

Today, however, it seems you might just have the King to yourself after all. You spoke briefly at a communal dinner last night, and he extended an invitation to his favourite glade. It was close enough to the halls to be sheltered and protected, but far enough away to be secluded and private. As you had little to do other than update the books in your possession, you readily accepted the proposal.

The sun is climbing high in the sky as you make your way to the glade. There is birdsong and a light breeze rustles the trees, stirring the warming air of the spring. Summer will soon be here, and then things will seem a little better.

The hem of your dress rustles gently as you pick your way down the trail and into the clearing. The large area of grass and flowers, flanked on all side by tall trees, is upsettingly empty. You had thought that Thranduil might already be here, but perhaps he is running late. You try not to feel too disappointed as you make your way across the clearing, picking an area to settle down in and wait for the King.

You fall onto your back and close your eyes as you wait, allowing the sun to warm your skin. All of your worries start to slip away, and soon your mind is wandering through calming and happy thoughts.

“Well, don’t you look improper.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, and your eyes open a little. “’Quel amrun, Tranduil.”

“And to you too, my dear.” Thranduil lowers himself to the grass besides you, sitting cross legged on the floor. His silvery-blue robes pool around him, and when he tilts his head you can see the small buds and flowers on his crown.

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, Thranduil threading his fingers through the grass, and you returning to your thoughts.

It is Thranduil who speaks first, bringing a blush to your cheeks. “I was starting to forget just how beautiful you are.”

You bite back a smile and raise an eyebrow. “Truly? I remember you once telling me that you would never forget a single feature of mine. Did you lie?”

“I would never lie to you.” Thranduil states forcefully and honestly. Then, in a more gentle tone ‘It has been too long since you have had my undivided attention. In a crowded room it is difficult to look too long, lest I draw attention.”

You knew that one of Thranduil’s greatest fears was of your relationship being discovered. Elves were supposed to love only once, and his wife had only been gone four hundred years. If others knew of the depth of your relationship, they might begin to question the genuineness of Thranduil’s love for his dearly departed wife. It could turn scorn onto his son, and his greatest worry was that something would happen to Legolas. 

“Then do not look too long. I am content with the time we can spend together.” You assure him. “Don’t endanger your son on my behalf.” You lift your hand to his cheek, stroking the soft skin under his eye.

Thranduil smiles, turning his head to kiss your palm. “Diola lle.”

You push yourself into a sitting position, keeping your hand on his cheek. “Think nothing of it. When you are happy and content, I am happy and content.”

Thranduil’s eyes light up as he smiles brightly. You move your hand from his cheek to the back of his head, giving him a light pull in your direction. He understands, and quickly closes the gap between you.

Each kiss after time spend apart is like your first kiss. Fireworks erupt under your skin and behind your eyes, blood rushes to your head and your heart tries to break from your chest. It never lasts long, but it always leaves you breathless.

“I have missed this.” Thranduil says, leaning closer to give you another, slightly longer, kiss. “I have missed you.”

The King leans closer to you, nudging you gently until you’re reclining back in the grass. He lies half next to you and half over you, one hand in your hair and the other resting idly at his side. Soft, gentle lips trace the contours of your face, finally coming to rest lazily against your lips. “I must find a way to see you more often.” His lips brush yours as he speaks, warm breath ghosting over your skin and making you shiver.

“You know that I am never busy. Whenever you need me you can call on me.”

Thranduil smiles and moves his hand from your hair to your waist, sliding it under you until the two of you are laying chest to chest. Then he rolls over onto his back, pulling you so that you are sprawled over him like one of his expensive and luxurious blankets. “If it were possible, I would stay like this for the rest of eternity.”

You smile, reaching up to press a lazy kiss against his warm lips. Below you he sighs in content, eyes fluttering shut. You can practically feel the worry and stress melt away.

“Legolas would like you.”

“Mmm?”

“He has already seen you in court.”

You kiss him again.

“He already calls you the ‘calwa heri’.”

“Thranduil, did you truly ask me here to speak about Legolas?” you ask. Though the little elfling is very dear to you, you would rather focus on his father.

Said father chuckles, brushing the hair from your eyes. “Of course not, Melamin.” He kisses you, nibbling a little on your bottom lip as he does so. “But the thought that the two of you might be friends is a comforting thought to me.” He admits once he lets you go.

“I will try.” You promise. “Though that might bring more bridges we must cross.”

Thranduil shrugs, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “For you I would cross a thousand bridges.”


End file.
